


Can I Offer You A Nice Egg In These Trying Times?

by avearia



Series: Hope Week 2020 [1]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: COVID 19, Coronavirus, Easter, Hope, Hope Week, M/M, Pandemics, Quarantine, Teamwork, coming together, rotg hope week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23626069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avearia/pseuds/avearia
Summary: For ROTG Hope Week. Sometimes, when darkness looms, it's the little things that keep the world spinning."Whaddya mean, Easter's CANCELLED?"
Relationships: E. Aster Bunnymund/Jack Frost
Series: Hope Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700671
Comments: 21
Kudos: 389





	Can I Offer You A Nice Egg In These Trying Times?

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos to Chaos Incarnate for giving me the idea for the title. 
> 
> I don't know if I'll be doing the rest of Hope week - this monster kind of ate up my ideas for Hope, Memories, AND Joy, and I'm kinda in the middle of another fandom event right now - but I wanted to write this much at least, and I enjoyed it.

**Can I Offer You A Nice Egg In These Trying Times?**

**-**

"Whaddya mean, Easter's _cancelled?_ "

Bunnymund's voice rang through the Warren, scattering the herds of unpainted eggs at his feet. Jack, however, remained unmoved. He crouched atop his staff, toes curling into the wood as he stared down at the Easter Bunny before him.

"Hey, it's not _my_ fault," he raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Don't shoot the messenger, I'm just letting you know. This Coronavirus is shaping up to be some pretty nasty stuff."

"The— _what_ virus?"

Jack narrowed his eyes at Bunny.

"Coronavirus. Covid-19." He said. "You _have_ been keeping up on the news, haven't you?"

Bunnymund, caught with his head in the ground, sputtered. "Look, I am _not_ the shut-in I used t' be, ok!" which was true; the Guardians had made great strides in getting out of their comfort zones in the past eight years. The attack by Pitch made them all realize how isolated they'd become. But… well. Old habits die hard. "So what if I missed a bulletin or two?"

"Bunny," Jack huffed, exasperated. "It's a _worldwide pandemic._ "

Frustrated, Bunny threw his hands in the air. "It's less than a month till Easter! Whaddya want from me!"

Jack rolled his eyes. "A little less denial would be nice."

Fuming, Bunnymund threw his paintbrush to the ground and stormed towards his tunnels.

Sighing, and deciding to take pity on the Pooka, Jack hopped off his staff and followed him across the grassy field. Eggs parted to let him pass. There were dozens of them, hundreds, all waiting to be painted; more were due to hatch from the Eggplants in waves as the month rolled on. The fruits of long labor. Bunny'd put a lot of work into this year's Easter, like he did every year, and it was a shame to see it all go to waste.

Bunny beelined for the European tunnels, ducking into one that Jack knew well. Bunny always seemed to be using this path. It led to a little suburb in England, the very same place where he'd been walked through on that fateful failed Easter years ago. The Pooka never said as much, but Jack suspected; England and Australia seemed to be Bunnymund's _Burgess._

So when the lagomorphs hopped down on all fours and darted out of sight, Jack didn't worry. He knew where Bunny was going.

After a few minutes of picking his way through the tunnels, Jack emerged into cool air and cloudy, overcast skies. The tunnel opened up in the narrow space between two long rows of houses, with a park visible down the road. The ground was clear of snow; Jack hadn't been active here lately, but looking at the green grass springing up between the pavestones, he thought he ought to change that soon.

Bunny, to his surprise, was not darting from bush to bush as usual. When Jack arrived, the Pooka was standing smack dab in the middle of the paved streets, subtlety be damned. He turned in circles, a bewildered look creeping onto his face.

Upon spying Jack, he threw his arms out. "Crikey, Jack, it's a ghost town out here! Where _is_ everybody!"

Jack pointed at the long rows of houses. "Inside," he explained. "…Or they _better_ be."

Bunny did another 360, scanning the streets. It was so empty out here, a tumbleweed wouldn't be out of place. "Mate, this—this seems bad," he admitted at last. "I've never seen this place so quiet."

Jack shook his head. "No kidding. You should see the _cities_."

Bunnymund froze. "The cities?"

"If you think this place is a ghost town, wait till you see London," Jack said. "Paris, Tokyo, Dubai— Venice is so empty the waterways are _clear_ for the first time in ages."

Bunnymund warily scanned the neighborhood again. The lack of people, mid-day, was eerie. He held perfectly still, holding his breath. His ears pricked forward, waiting for sound, eyes on the empty space - as if he expected someone to jump out and yell _"boo!"_ \- but nothing came. Slowly, he took a wary step forward, eyes scanning the streets.

Jack stepped forward, reaching out. "…Bunny," he started.

Bunny's whiskers twitched. "So this Coronavirus," he said. "It caused this?"

Jack held up a hand. "They're self-quarantining, for the most part. To help slow the strain on the hospitals. Practically everything is shutting down, everywhere."

"Must be some virus." Bunny replied. "…Takin' out kids and the elderly, I assume?"

"Mostly the elderly. And people with underlying health conditions. It's like the flu on steroids, with a ridiculous incubation period." Jack drew up to his side.

"How many dead?"

Jack winced. "It's… not clear—"

"Give it to me straight."

"…Over four thousand deaths in Italy so far." Jack said, reluctantly. "And more to come. China's not far behind. The US—well." He shrugged. "With the state of healthcare there? Bound to be ten times worse."

It felt different saying it aloud. _Four thousand deaths._

A chill ran down his spine.

Jack cast a worried glance at Bunny. He seemed… withdrawn, and Jack _hated_ that. Good news—if he could just think of good news— "Kids though! They seem largely unaffected, thankfully. Gotta catch _some_ breaks, right?"

Bunny looked at least a little relieved at that. Jack went on. "But—the kids're taking it home and giving it to their parents, their grandparents… a lot of places are talking about closing down schools." He slung his staff over his shoulders. "Which, I might add, is _totally_ unfair. I mean, I drop three feet of snow on Burgess and Jamie's highschool might close for, what, a day? Two at most? And then one little pandemic comes along and completely wipes out my record by a mile."

Bunnymund snorted at that. "You're full of yourself."

"I try."

"So," Bunny said. A pause, and his shoulders slumped. "…No Easter this year."

Looking at Bunny's crestfallen face, knots twisted Jack's gut. "Hey, that was the Pope. _He_ cancelled Easter. But I'm sure your status as the Easter Bunny outweighs his authority."

Not even a smile at the comment. "Quarantining means no egg hunts," Bunny said. His ears drooped further. "No egg hunts means no Easter."

Jack took a deep breath and let it out slow. "…Yeah."

They stood silent for a long minute.

"S'not even about the egg hunts, really," Bunnymund said at last. "What worries me is skipping Easter—at a time when the world needs _hope_ the most."

Jack bit his lip. "You could still—I mean, not to bring up North's method, but—pop inside the houses, leave eggs around the house?"

"I already do that, some places," Bunnymund told him. "But if I get the virus on me fur, or me googies, and take 'em inta a clean house—"

Jack sighed. "…Right. Kinda destroys the point of quarantining." He said. Still, he cats about for options, _something_ to lift Bunnymund's spirits. "…Maybe if you disinfect between each place—"

That, oddly, drew a laugh from the Pooka's lips. Bunnymund ruffled Jack's hair, messing it up even worse than it already was. Jack ducked under the noogie, squinting up at Bunny.

"Appreciate it, really," said the Pooka. "But… you're right. Unless somethin' changes, fast, there's - there's just no Easter this year."

Jack straightened, frowning. Giving up wasn't Bunny's MO. He'd thought - he knew the news would hit hard, if he hadn't already caught wind of it, but he thought for sure Bunny would come at this swinging. Maybe try to brainstorm some solutions to the problem, or pull out an unexpected ace hidden up his sleeve.

But just giving up? "Hey now—"

"It's for the best." Bunny cut him off. Apparently it was written all over his face. "In the grand scheme of things - a couple of googies is a small sacrifice to pay fer a safe community."

Jack's frown twisted. Sure but… still.

Bunny gave Jack a comforting pat on the shoulder. "I'm headin' back. Better find somethin' to do with my newfound free time." He added, in a mutter. Turning back to Jack, he asked, "Need a lift anywhere?"

Jack's eyes lingered on Bunny for a long moment. At last, he shook his head.

Bunny's hand dropped from his arm, and it felt like defeat. "Ta, mate," Bunny said, giving a halfhearted salute. In two taps of a paw, a tunnel opened up, and he was gone.

Jack watched him go, wishing, for the life of him, that he could find a way to fix this.

Staring down at the bare earth where the tunnel disappeared, a cold resolve settled in Jack's heart.

He _had_ to find a way to _fix_ this.

—

It was three days and as many consecutive sleepless nights later that Jack came knocking again. The tunnel opened reluctantly, Bunnymund's magic sluggish to match its owners mood, and the rabbit didn't meet him in the field. When Jack arrived, the Pooka was still curled up in his Burrow, slumped at the kitchen chair with a hot tea and sweets littering the table.

"Go 'way," he moaned when Jack's silhouette darkened the doorway. "Let me mourn my holiday in peace." A couple of eggs, unpainted, butted at Bunnymund's heels; the rabbit hadn't had the heart to get rid of them.

 _Aha,_ Jack thought, triumphant. Bunny wasn't as satisfied with giving up as he'd pretended to be.

"Pick up your paintbrush and get back to work," Jack told him, eyes gleaming. "Easter's still on."

"Jack," Bunny groaned. "We already talked about this—"

"No egg hunts," Jack flapped a dismissive hand. "We're doing this the old fashioned way."

Bunny sat a bit straighter at that, raising a curious ear. "And what would that be?"

Jack's eyes sparkled, glimmering with hope.

"Baskets," he said, and that was that.

—

Egg hunts hadn't always been the center of the holiday.

In Jack's time, rumor was that if you left a basket - or a hat, upended _like_ a basket - on your doorstep, the Easter Bunny would drop by and fill it to the brim with goodies galore. The practice died out slowly as Bunnymund realized that encouraging folks to go out and seek for the good things in life was a more effective method at garnering Hope; but this year, it was coming back full force.

"Wicker. Ribbons. Paint." Bunnymund dumped another armload of supplies on the grass, and dusted off his paws. "Who's on weaving duty?"

"On it," Jack called, sandwiched between two yetis. He'd all but kidnapped them from North as it became apparent that Bunny's basket production needed to skyrocket, fast. North readily obliged, and even donated some holiday gift baskets he had sitting in the warehouse, unused.

Bunnymund eyed the donated baskets; "…as long as they're not painted red, they'll do."

Over the next few weeks, they emptied Bunny's storage and wove baskets until their fingers fell off. Some were simple affairs, others were elaborate, oversized displays, reserved for houses with large families. In addition to painting eggs, Bunny quickly doubled his output of chocolate, peeps, and hard candies.

Sandy had an eye for basket-arranging, easily assembling multiple at once with the aid of his dreamsand. After Tooth disinfected each finished basket, her Mini fairies carried them off to a cooler and semi-refrigerated room of the Warren that Jack had helped set up. They would remain in isolation until Easter.

They worked at a steady pace, some coming and going, everyone pitching in. When the wicker ran out, Bunny went and found more. North donated plastic baskets as he churned them out. One night, Tooth and Sandy disappeared with a sack of quarters and came back with a truckload of baskets, procured in bulk from closed dollar-tree stores.

"Technically they're paid for!" Tooth insisted when Bunny hemmed and hawed over the gift.

At last, he accepted them. A month was a short time to make millions of baskets, even with everyone helping out. He wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

"You know," Bunny remarked, a few days before Easter Sunday, as he and Jack wove a handful more baskets to put them over the top. "This just might work."

 _"Might?"_ Jack echoed, offended. He flexed his overworked fingers, scowling. "Don't sell this short. Of course it'll work. It's _brilliant_."

Bunnymund chuckled. "Aye," he said. "But you do realize there's one _tiny_ problem with yer plan?"

Jack paused. "Problem?"

"Quarantine," Bunnymund said. "Most o' these people haven't left their houses in weeks. What makes you think they'll notice the baskets on their doorstep before the eggs start to stink?"

Hm. That was a valid point. Jack set down his half-woven basket and leaned on a hand, thinking.

"We knock," he said at last.

Bunny huffed, amused. " _That's_ your brilliant plan? _Knock?_ " he, too, set his basket down. "Mate, even if it were that simple, I can't. They'd _see_ me."

"Ignoring the fact that _being seen_ isn't as dreadful as you make it out to be," Jack flapped a hand, "I'm not dumb. I wouldn't have _you_ knock." When Bunny cast a confused glance at him, clearly not understanding, Jack said; "I'll have you know I'm a _master_ at ding-dong-ditch."

Bunny studied Jack's face for a long moment, then cracked a smile.

"So you're inviting yourself on my run, huh. You think you can keep up with me?"

Jack laced his fingers and turned his palms outwards, stretching. "I know I can, cottontail. In fact, I'd say I'll _knock_ this one out of the park."

Bunnymund groaned. "No. No puns."

"Hey," Jack laughed. "Hey— _knock knock!_ "

A resigned sigh. "Who's there?"

"Boo," Jack said.

"…Boo who?"

"Why are you crying?" Jack asked. "Easter isn't canceled anymore."

The smile Bunny sent Jack was the most genuine one he'd seen all month.

—

Operation _Ring-Every-Doorbell-In-The-World_ was a go.

 _"Finished with China,"_ Bunny's voice said through Jack's earbud. _"Headin' down to Oz. Catch up, slowpoke!_ "

"Ohhhh you're _dead_ when I get down there," Jack shot back, flitting from house to house.

So this was a _biiit_ tougher than he thought it'd be. Jack wasn't well-known worldwide yet, so no one had spotted him, and all he had to do was press a button at each station, an easier task than carting whole armfuls of baskets to the surface. He was running into unexpected walls, however, when he realized to truly make this work, he had to ring doorbells in a certain _order_.

Apartments, Jack decided, were the worst. He had to ring every doorbell in each hall before anyone answered their door; if he didn't, those who'd emerged would realize their neighbors' doorbells were ringing of their own accord. But he couldn't be too _quick_ about it, either, since people exiting their houses en-mass was also, in a way, counterproductive to the quarantine.

But he managed, staying just a step or two behind Bunnymund at all times. Ring and knock; flit to the next target.

Doors opened as he passed, with surprised folks drifting out into the street. He saw dozens of people in pajamas, more who sorely needed haircuts, and a handful who were apparently sitting around their house in Wedding Dresses and Dinosaur Costumes. Quarantine fashion - an interesting trend. The delighted gasps and laughs that echoed in his wake were well enough to spur him on.

They caught their breath over the atlantic ocean, ("Good news! Right now, Greenland's virus-free!") before diving back in to work on the Americas. By the time they hit Alaska, Jack was about ready to drop.

"How do you _do_ this?" Jack wheezed as they drew up to the final house on their stop. Bunnymund was waiting, tweaking the ribbons and eggs that had shifted in transit. "Every _year?_ "

Bunny smirked. "Stamina, mate. It's a marathon, not a race."

"I hate that you're not even winded," Jack groused back.

Satisfied with the presentation, Bunnymund stepped back. "Care to do the honors, mate?" he motioned to the doorbell.

Jack stole an extra minute longer, leaning on his staff for support. Then, with one last deep breath, he raised a hand - no doorbell on this house it seemed - and knocked.

A rustling inside the house. _"Mama!"_ called a young voice inside. _"Mama who knocked? Is it the pizza man? Did you order pizza on Easter?!"_

Quick as a blink, the two retreated a safe distance back. The front door opened seconds later; a young girl, six years old, stuck her head out.

Her eyes landed on the basket and, all at once, lit up. "Mama!" she screeched in delight. She gathered up the basket—nearly as tall as herself—and waddled back inside, leaving the door hang open. "Mama, he came! You said he wouldn't be here but look, he _came!_ "

 _"What?"_ a bewildered voice called from inside the house. Bunnymund and Jack traded a sly look, and a snicker.

The mother stuck her head out of the doorway, glancing this way and that for the culprit. Bunny made sure to flatten his ears and duck down low to avoid detection.

"Huh," said the woman, to herself. "I guess someone in the community is looking out for us after all."

After the door closed, Jack went ahead and dramatically collapsed on the ground before them. "Tell me we're _done,_ " he said, though he knew full well they were.

"Righto," Bunny knelt at his side, amusement in his smirk. "Need a lift back t' the Warren?"

"Why would I run to the Warren when I'm perfectly content to die right here?"

Bunnymund chuckled. "Always with the dramas," he said, and scooped Jack up in his arms.

"H-hey!" Jack balked, blushing deeply. "I can walk!"

"Can ye now?"

"Yes!" Jack squirmed out of Bunny's hold and skittered away, then raised his chin defiance. "Though I reserve the right to complain the whole time."

"As ye wish." He tapped twice and summoned a tunnel, motioning Jack in first.

Jack paused at the lip, but just before jumping down, caught Bunnymund staring back at their last house. He turned to look, too, companionable in their silence.

"We did pretty good, huh?" Jack said. "Considering."

Bunny gave a nod. "The world's doing pretty good right now, considering." He remarked. "A couple 'o baskets might not be much, but hopefully, it's something."

"It's the little things," Jack agreed.

"…It really is."

Bunnymund broke his gaze with the house to rest his paw on Jack's shoulder, and this one, in a sharper mirror of the same gesture a month prior, felt like sun on the skin. Bunny smiled at Jack, shining with soft gratitude.

"Thanks fer bein' here, Jack," he said. "Couldn't've done it without ya."

Jack smiled back. "Happy Easter."

Bunny nodded at the tunnel. "Now c'mon," he said, tossing something to Jack which the winter spirit just barely caught; "We've got a disinfecting bath and a nap waitin' fer us in the Warren."

Jack paused, unfolding his hands to inspect what he'd caught: an Easter Egg, painted a vivid blue, speckled with snowflakes and a golden scrawl that read _Thank You._

Jack beamed at the egg, holding it gently in his hands, then turned the smile up at Bunny.

Bunny's own grin turned wicked. "—Race ya," he said, diving into the tunnel.

"What!" Jack stiffened, sore muscles seizing. Any protest he might utter fell away at the sound of Bunnymund's bright, ringing laughter.

Pocketing the egg, Jack dove in after him, his center bursting with joy and hope.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked, leave a comment! I'd love to hear from you!
> 
> ~Happy Easter!


End file.
